Debriefing
by femme4jack
Summary: A crossover of Ozone - the Xeno Edition and Patronus, and AU to both.  Optimus Prime debriefs his smallest spy with sexy results.


**Title:** Debriefing (a one shot cross-over of Ozone: the Xeno Edition and Patronus, and should be considered AU to both)  
><strong>Author:<strong> Femme4jack  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Transformers Movieverse (DotM AU fix-it)  
><strong>Rating:<strong> R  
><strong>WARNINGS:<strong> Spoilers for DotM, spoilers for future chapters of Patronus and Ozone. Xenophilia smut (mech/human tactile and spark).  
><strong>Summary:<strong>Optimus Prime debriefs his youngest spy.

**Notes:** _For the Flesh_and_steel August 2011 Grab Bag Challenge (I'm categorizing this one as Strange Mating Rituals)_

_If Patronus happened to be in the same 'verse as Ozone, this is how Optimus would "debrief his spy". Takes place shortly after Optimus and Mikaela leave for Ratchet's hanger in Patronus 6. Please note that even though this is an Ozone and Patronus crossover, it is AU from both and things that are established in this chapter may change or not happen in the other stories. My muses just would not leave me alone about that "debriefing"._

_Teek - a made up word invented by Dwimordene for the Cybertronian sense of EM, Spark, and bio-energetic fields._

* * *

><p>Debriefing<p>

* * *

><p>The joint Autobot-NEST temporary base at Chicago Midway had been expanding, but it still did not provide for much privacy. Most recharging was done in the largest hanger, in alt modes. This was why Optimus Prime found himself in a part of Ratchet's hanger that had been walled off as a private recovery room. It had a berth and a lock that only Ratchet could override, which was all they really needed. Of course, they didn't truly need either, but Mikaela was still a product of her culture, and her field teeked all the more alluringly, the more comfortable she was.<p>

Ratchet had, shortly before, provided the requisite grumbling, snarling, and grousing about going ahead with the testing of the nanites (Mikeala had affectionately dubbed them _Wheeljack's polyjuice potion_), and then had ordered his leader and apprentice-turned-spy into the coveted private space. This was mostly because Mikaela had gotten herself a case of the giggles that refused to go away, and the two had made one too many teasing innuendos as part of the conversation. "Get your afts in there and don't come out before noon tomorrow or I swear to Primus I'll weld your chestplates closed, Prime."

"What will you do to me, Doctor?" Mikaela asked with sweet innocence, batting her eyelashes at her mentor.

Ratchet gave her a dirty look, then snorted, his expression softening. "Weld his chestplates closed and get _my_ turn with you for once, since you insist on being around so rarely these days. Primus, he is a greedy glitch with you."

"Why don't you join us, old friend?" Optimus offered earnestly.

"Because I've found myself in the untenable situation of being your second-in-command as well as your CMO, and I'm going to make sure you actually get a break, for once. Besides, I need to keep working on Jolt.

"I'm spending time with you before I go back in the field, Ratch. I don't care if I have to use magnetic restraints to make you to take a break," Mikaela warned, and it did not sound as though she were joking.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Ratchet asked, before shooing them into the coveted private room and locking the door.

Which was where they now were. Optimus was using one arm to support his vast mass as he loomed over her tiny form, spread so trustingly underneath him on the berth. She was bare, save the impractical lace that covered her genitals, and he revelled in the way she teeked each time he ran his glossa slowly down her body, circling her breasts, teasing her nipples, and then tracing invisible glyphs along her abdomen and thighs (glyphs which teeked vividly to his sensors as her quantum particles reacted in affinity to his touch).

He delighted in the feline manner in which her back arched as she pushed herself into him. She whimpered in protest as he moved his face away, only to moan as he pressed one of his large fingers between her tanned thighs, spreading them wide, cataloging the chemical composition of the slick fluid that had soaked her panties to recite to himself fondly when she was away from him.

He gently pushed on her as she began moving her hips, undulating against him, her breath now tiny gasps and whimpers. Her body temperature rose, and she lit his infrared sensors like an angel of light. When he knew she was close, he deliberately removed his finger, only to grasp at the flimsy material covering her and tear it away with a deep growl he knew she loved. He then placed his mouthplates on her wet entrance, and hummed deeply until she gave her animal-cry, the vibrations of his voice taking her over the edge of bliss.

Ah, yes, he did so enjoy debriefing his spy.

* * *

><p>He onlined to the sound of the door sliding shut. Mikaela was curled in his hand, which held her, as always, over his chestplates, still unlocked and slightly open. She teeked in the energized and relaxed manner that always followed physical contact with a spark of one of their cohort.<p>

For Prime and his mechs, merging with one another was akin to a dose of vitamin B12 for a human. It purified and renewed their energon that became degraded with use of inferior fuels and lack of cohort contact.

For Mikaela? Well, Ratchet had made a hobby of scanning her body during and after it had been lovingly cocooned and deliriously penetrated by the spark energy of her chosen family. Cellular regeneration (along with some cellular damage akin to a sunburn) and a host of quantum effects that were beyond human understanding of physics were among the benefits.

Optimus recalled when she admitted to him that being enveloped by and filled with his spark felt so good that she would continue even if it were shortening rather than lengthening her lifespan (a notion he could not abide). She described it as feeling like her body and soul were being stroked by love, acceptance, belonging and curiosity. It had an impact on her that was far more important than ridding her cells of free radicals.

Prime found he could not get enough of having that effect upon her.

Merging with her bio-energy had a different effect on him than merging with the sparks of his cohort. He could not access her thoughts or memories. But what he did touch did something to him that Ratchet's scans could not explain. It baffled and intrigued them. Touching the sparks of his mechs, whether those of his personal cohort or the wider cohort that made up the Autobots, renewed his energon. Touching the human member of his cohort was akin to receiving a measure of the brand new energon like he had once taken directly from the AllSpark in the sacramental ritual he had performed prior to bending its energy to create a new spark.

Glancing at the shelf above the berth, he saw that Ratchet had left fuel for himself and breakfast for Mikaela, and reached out across his bond to the medic in thanks, receiving a gruff but loving pulse in return. He heard the telltale sounds coming from her to indicate that she was stirring. Most of the time, he simply watched her while she slept. He had admitted that with her span being so short, he did not wish to miss a second of these intimate moments that had become far too rare since Mearing had come into play and Mikaela been forced to make herself scarce.

"You need more recharge than that," she scolded in greeting.

"You are starting to sound like Ratchet on the berth. It is no wonder he is so fond of you," Optimus said as he unsubspaced a metal container which spiraled open to reveal a silver, opalescent cream. Instead of offering it to her, he collected some with his own finger, sending a pulse to the nanites within it to warm the solution. He then began to apply it to her skin, using the lightest possible pressure to avoid bruising her. It was all part of their ritual, and she murmured her sleepy pleasure in response to the all over body massage with the cream that repaired her UV-damaged skin cells.

The massage continued to the music of spark, systems, and human moans of appreciation blending into a perfect symphony, accompanied by the rapid beating of her heart and increased respiration. It would only end when he brought her to yet another climax, adding the images of her now silver-colored body writhing in pleasure in his hand to the many others in the special file he kept.

Though human eyes could not see the glyphs written into her skin, traced there by metal fingers and glossa every time she made love to a member of her cohort, his sensors followed their curving and angular forms as the cream absorbed into her skin. The nanites, which healed her UV radition damage, also reacted with the traced glyphs, creating a signal that the rest of the Autobots could not help but to teek even after her skin returned to its earthen tones. The glyphs marked her as one of the Prime cohort, the hub of all the cohorts that remained functioning.

He briefly wondered what color-scheme her own chromo-nanites would form if she had them. Silver would suit her, like the mech who would one day command her in special operations when the his memory core was fully restored. Fitting, since Optimus's spark, despite the objections of his logic subroutines, was determined to consider her his anchor in Jazz's absence.

With her determination to embrace their technology and upgrade her own body, it was quite possible that one day he would, indeed, know what color scheme she favored, though he thoroughly enjoyed the alien softness of her tender flesh and the tanned curves of her organic form.

She was dozing again, but only lightly. He visualized her form with two more glyphs on her skin, ones that were not yet written there, but, Primus willing, would soon be. She was cohort to Patronus and he to her, but whether that bond became fully realized with her or with with any of them, only time would tell. The signs were positive, but Optimus was too cautious to hope and too fair to push. As for Jazz? Optimus gave Mikaela a day, at most, once he returned with Arcee from Wheeljack's labs on Mars, before she teeked of his designation as well (and he of hers when his spark imprinted it on his own signature).

"So what is going through those processors of yours?" she asked lazily as she stirred.

He took the tray of breakfast items off of the shelf and placed it on the berth, setting her down beside it before answering, watching as she took a sip of her coffee. Decaf, of course, since Ratchet had obtained it for her. She wouldn't need the stimulant, not after having had contact with his spark. But she would be, in her words, pissed as hell, if she knew.

"I am thinking about Jazz, and am considering setting up a betting pool on exactly how many breems it takes for him to have you, literally, wrapped in his spark after he meets you again. Though, there are far too many variables to make an accurate prediction. Will he teek our designations on you, open up and be done with it, and then start his exploration? Or will he do thorough reconnaissance on your body first?"

"You think I'm going to let him make all of those calls? You don't know me half as well as you think you do," she said, taking a sip of her coffee and giving an appreciative _ahhhhhh_

"Mikaela, I have no doubt that Jazz will find in you a worthy opponent when it comes to strength of will."

She smiled at him, sprawled next to her, completely relaxed on the berth, his face even with her body enabling her to look him in the optics. He felt her run her hand along a few of the thousands of tiny, moving components that made up his facial plating. "I'm looking foward to it. Looking forward to you having more of the family around, having your anchor back. But what about the other nearly-lost brother?"

_Patonus, ch. 6, continues here, with the remainder of Mikaela and Optimus Prime's conversation_


End file.
